


when the sun came up (you were looking at me)

by Cones_McMurphy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: But with a happy ending, F/M, It's not that graphic, angst on top of angst on top of angst, break up fic, but she does get shot so I put that warning on it, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5886541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cones_McMurphy/pseuds/Cones_McMurphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy is shot in the line of duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the sun came up (you were looking at me)

_Remember when we couldn’t take the heat?_   
_I walked out, said I’m setting you free_   
_But the monsters turned out to be just trees_   
  
_Are we out of the woods yet?_   
_Are we in the clear?_

 

* * *

 

 

Jake sits restlessly in the hospital waiting room. He taps his foot relentlessly, unable to calm his jumbled nerves. The doctors had rushed Amy into surgery, saying that it would be a few hours before she was out of surgery and even longer before she woke up. If she made it through the surgery.

He’d called to update the others, and told them to keep working to solve the case and figure out who the son of bitch who shot her was. Jake shudders under a fresh wave of shame. He’d felt it when he washed Amy’s blood off his hands in the hospital bathroom. Even once his hands were clean and the water in the sink no longer ran red, he still felt it, hot and thick, on his hands. He felt suffocated with guilt.

“Jake!” A familiar voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Mr. and Mrs. Santiago.” He stands up to greet them. Mrs. Santiago immediately pulls him into a hug. He stiffens at first, surprised by the affection. He hasn’t seen Amy’s parents since before they broke up.

“The hospital wouldn’t tell us anything over the phone,” Mr. Santiago explains as his wife releases Jake.

“She was shot. She’ll be in surgery for a few hours.” He leaves out what happened before she was shot. He doesn’t think he can look her parents in the eye and tell them it was his fault. He’s the one who had a bad feeling about the case. He’s the one who dragged her back to the crime scene. If he had just ignored the feeling…if he had gone alone….

 

* * *

 

 

_Jake twisted his fingers in the loose thread on his jacket and tried to focus on what Amy was saying._

_“I just think that we’ve been moving really fast, and um,” she swallowed nervously. “I think we need some time apart.”  
_

_“Amy, I…did I do something wrong?” It was all he could say. He racked his brain for mistakes. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”_

_“No, Jake…you didn’t do anything. This is just…a lot for me right now. I need some space.”_

_Jake furrowed his brow. He didn’t really know what Amy meant by that, but if she wanted space, he would respect that.  
_

_“Okay, okay, okay. Cool, cool, cool.”_

_“I’m sorry, Jake.”_

 

* * *

 

 

The Santiagos sit with Jake for a few hours, until Amy gets out of surgery and the doctors tell the trio that she’s stable. “She won’t be awake in the morning. Go home and get some rest.”

The Santiagos follow the doctor’s advice and get a hotel near the hospital—they’re both too tired to drive the two and a half hours back to New Jersey—but not before promising Jake they would be there first thing in the morning.

“You should go home, too, Jake,” Mrs. Santiago says.

“Yeah. Get some sleep,” Mr. Santiago adds. Jake forces a small smile.

“Maybe in a little while,” he says, for their benefit. He can’t leave. It’s his fault that Amy is in the hospital. The Santiagos leave and Jake sinks back into his chair with a long exhale. His eyes flutter shut for a moment and he sees Amy lying on the floor of that apartment, covered in her own blood. His eyes snap back open.

 

* * *

 

 

_He was a little bit drunk and really regretted dropping his face onto the sticky bar top, but he couldn’t be bothered to lift it. It had been a week since Amy broke it off._

_“Jake?” He lifted his head slightly at Charles’s voice._

_"What’s up?”_

_“Are you drunk?”_

_“Little bit.”_

_“Are you gonna tell me what happened between you and Amy? You guys seemed so solid.”_

_“She needed space, Charles.” Jake shrugged._

_"And that’s it? You’re not going to fight for her?”_

_"That’s not what she wants._ I’m _not what she wants.”_

 

* * *

 

Gina shows up about an hour after the Santiagos leave, with a fresh change of clothes for Jake.

“How ya holding up?” She asks, handing him the pile of clothes.

“Every time I close my eyes I see her on the ground, covered in blood, and I can’t remember the last thing I ate. So you know. Been better.”

Gina puts an arm around his shoulder. “Oh, honey. It’s going to be okay. Amy will be fine. Now please change your clothes.”

Jake registers the dried blood on his shirt for the first time all day. Amy’s blood. It occurs to him that Amy’s parents hugged him anyway, but he can’t fully process it because the blood brings back the image of her on the floor.

“I…I’m gonna go change,” he says slowly, still looking down at his shirt. “Thanks, Goose.” He presses a quick kiss to her forehead, but whether the action is for her or his own comfort, he’s not entirely sure.

Gina nods, her eyes full of concern. “Of course.”

 

* * *

 

_It happened on a Thursday. She was out with Kylie and some of Kylie’s friends. They all talked about their most recent dates, exchanging horror stories and downing pink drinks with cherries and paper umbrellas. When the conversation turned to her, she told them about Jake. “We worked together for a long time before we started dating. It’s going really well.”_

_“How long have you been together?” a redhead named Hilary asked._

_“A little over a year.”_

_“So, when are you getting married?” asked a brunette, Carly. Amy panicked._

_Marriage…marriage was a big step. Obviously. Of course. But they_ had _been together over a year, which meant it wasn’t as far off as she liked to pretend it was. She ordered another drink._

_She went home that night and wondered why the idea of marrying Jake scared her so much. She loved him. He loved her. Instead of sleeping, she let her mind audit her relationship with Jake for hours. She eventually concluded that maybe it was a sign they weren’t right for each other, and that’s what this fear was trying to tell her._

_Her mind became a vortex of doubts and insecurities. She spent a week and a half fighting with herself before she broke up with him._

 

* * *

 

They let Jake into Amy’s room at 8 o’clock the next morning. He sits in the chair by her bed and tries to ignore the beeping and whirring of the machines. There are so many different wires and tubes attached to her. A fresh knot of guilt forms in his gut. He considers sitting in the waiting room to avoid looking at her, but just thinking about it increases the knot. He wants—no, needs—to be there when she wakes up.

Amy wakes up two hours later. Her eyes open slowly and his breath catches. “H-hey,” he says softly.

“Hi, Pineapples,” she responds groggily, and he almost smiles.

“I’m so sorry, Amy,” he blurts out. “I should never have talked you into coming to the crime scene. I should’ve gone alone. I should’ve had your back.” The words come tumbling out of his mouth and he can tell she’s overwhelmed when her eyes widen.

“Jake…” She starts to say, but the nurses come in and shoo him out to take her vitals. He leans against the sterile, white wall of the hospital and calls her parents.

“Mrs. Santiago? It’s Jake.”

“Oh, how is Amy?”

“She’s awake. I think she’ll want to see you.” If he’s honest, he wants to see them, too. He felt calmer when they came to the hospital last night.

“We’ll be there soon.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

_“Amy, can—can we talk?” The precinct in the middle of a case probably wasn’t the best place or time for this, but he’d been thinking about it all day.  
_

_“Uh, sure,” Amy answered hesitantly. She followed him into the evidence lock up in silence._

_“We broke up two months ago,” he stated bluntly._

_“Yeah, we did.” She raised an eyebrow._

_“And everything it’s…it’s just weird, right?” His voice was a littler higher than normal, almost frantic._

_“Yeah...” Amy couldn’t say much else. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this._

_“It’s like we can’t even be friends anymore and I don’t like it,” he said with a bit of a childish intonation. “We were close friends, best friends even, before we dated. We should be able to be more than just…colleagues, or whatever we are.” He knew things were different, but admitting to that would’ve meant admitting to the possibility that he’d lost her from his life entirely, and that was something he couldn’t accept. He fidgeted nervously with his badge as he watched her process what he’d said._

_“I agree,” she said finally. “We should be able to be friends.”_

_He was so relieved that he didn’t hear the hesitation in her voice._

 

* * *

 

 

Jake gives Amy space for the rest of the day. Between her parents and the squad hovering over her, he imagines that his presence would just add to the stress. He goes home after Amy’s parents get there, but before the squad shows up. Gina texts him the entire visit, but he only reads a few of the messages. He showers, still trying to scrub the feeling of Amy’s blood off his hands. He eats some spaghetti Gina’s left in his fridge. On the container was a sticky note that he recognizes from off of Holt’s desk: “You’ll be hungry eventually. I love you. – G”

He’s grateful, seeing as he can barely take care of himself under normal circumstances. He eats slowly, his stomach still in knots. He attempts to nap, but after an hour of tossing and turning, it’s clear that he’s still too keyed up from the previous day’s events. His brain is on overdrive, so he catches a cab and heads to the precinct.

* * *

 

 

_It was a mugging gone wrong. That’s what Rosa said. And she was the primary. Still, something about it bothered Jake. What was Luke Reynolds, an average single guy with a nice apartment in uptown Manhattan and a boring desk job, even doing in Brooklyn? And why didn’t the mugger at least take the cash from his wallet?_

_But Rosa was being particularly stubborn about it, so Jake had started investigating on his own. He found that the caliber of the gun matched common mob pieces. The bullets were high end, not your typical mugger’s ammo. But the thing that bugged Jake the most was that the victim’s pockets were emptied and their contents left on the ground near the body. Whoever killed Luke Reynolds was looking for something, and Jake was determined to find out what._

_It wasn’t hard to pull Amy into it. Once he showed her the inconsistencies, it took all of two hours before she cracked. That’s when they decided to head uptown to the victim’s apartment, hoping to find whatever the killer was looking for. They made sure not to tell anyone where they were going, since they were technically going against protocol. And, to be honest, they were a little afraid of Rosa._

_Amy volunteered to talk to the super when they got there, so Jake headed up to the apartment first. He was searching one of the kitchen drawers when she walked in._

_“So, according to the super, Reynolds lived alone, except for his cat. Says he didn’t talk to enough people to get himself killed.” Amy read off her notes as she entered their murder victim’s apartment. Jake nodded._

_“And yet he ended up shot at close range in an alley, with his wallet and cash still on him.” He sighed. “It makes no sense.”_

_“Maybe it_ was _a mugging gone wrong, but the guy got spooked after he realized Reynolds was dead,” Amy offered curtly. Jake shook his head.  
_

_“Something just doesn’t feel right about this, Ames. I know we’ll find something if we keep looking around.” He’d started to realize pretty quickly that this whole thing was a lot tenser than he had anticipated. Despite their conversation four months ago, they still hadn’t gotten back to where they were before they dated. Jake was beginning to resign himself to this uncomfortable colleagues thing becoming their permanent dynamic._

_“I’ll check the bedroom,” Amy announced before turning down the hall and disappearing around the corner. Jake turned to the stack of mail on the victim’s kitchen counter. He rifled through about half of it when he heard the gunshot. He dropped the mail back on the counter and sprinted to the bedroom, pulling out his own weapon as he approached the door. It was ajar. He pushed it open and saw Amy on the floor, a pool of crimson flowing out from her chest. He looked up to see the man who shot her pointing the gun at him. Before Jake could even form a coherent thought about what was happening, he pulled the trigger on his sig and filled the man with lead. He released the gun almost involuntarily and dropped to his knees beside Amy. Her breaths were dangerously shallow, but she was still conscious._

_“Amy, stay with me,” he said, filled with a sudden panic. He reached for his phone. “This is Detective Peralta, 10-00, officer down, I need an ambulance.” Okay, okay, he thought._ What do I do? There’s so much blood, oh God. Oh God, oh God _. He looked at her face, full of fear, and resolved not to let her die. He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself and tried to recall everything in his brain about gunshots, which admittedly wasn’t much, but it was enough to have some idea of what to do. He pressed his palms to the wound. “Amy, stay with me,” he repeated. “I love you, Amy. Please, don’t leave me.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Rosa is at her desk, pouring over her case files when Jake walks in. “You were right,” she says without looking up.

“For once I wish I wasn’t,” he responds earnestly. “Have you ID’d the shooter?”

“Yeah. Vince Giovanelli. He was a muscle for the Ianucci family.” Rosa shrugs.

“Oh, my God!” Jake practically yells. “I know why Reynolds was killed.”

“Why?”

“Remember when I went undercover with the Ianucci family?”

Rosa nods.

“Well, I think I crossed paths with Giovanelli’s wife, Mimi Giovanelli. She was super drunk when we met, and kinda smelled like butterscotch candies, but she kept talking about how he had an affair.”

“What does any of this have to do with Reynolds?”

“Mimi said Vince was sleeping with a _man_ ,” Jake pauses for emphasis. “A very boring man who looked like a Gap model.”

“You think he was sleeping with Reynolds?”

“It all fits together, Rosa. Mimi said that Vince would meet his boyfriend at a sketchy motel like a block away from where we found the body.”

“But why would Giovanelli kill Reynolds?”

“Because Reynolds found something.” Jake narrows his eyes. “Something that would’ve put Giovanelli away for a long time. Giovanelli killed Reynolds to keep him from coming forward.”

“But we didn’t find anything on Giovanelli’s body.”

“So, whatever it is, it’s still in Reynolds’ apartment!” Jake turns to leave, but Rosa stops him with a hand on the shoulder.

“Do you really think you can go back there?” She asks, letting her voice soften just slightly. Jake falters.

“Uh.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Jake mulls it over in his mind for a brief moment. “Yeah, I do. This son of a bitch shot Amy.”

 

* * *

 

_“C’mon, Amy! Live a little!” Kylie nudged her friend and shoved a shotglass of tequila into her hand._

_“I’m kinda tired, I might just go home.” Amy put the tequila down on the bar._

_“Not a chance. You and Jake broke up four months ago and you’ve been totally lame ever since. You gotta get back out there!”_

_“Well…maybe I don’t want to get back out there.” Amy’s eyes darted back to the shotglass. She considered downing the whole thing to drown out her feelings, but then she considered what four-drink Amy might do and she turned back to Kylie._

_“Amy Santiago. Are you still in love with Jake?” Kylie asked. Amy hesitated._

_“I…I don’t know…” That was a lie. She knew she hadn’t stopped loving him, and probably never would. But she couldn’t tell Kylie that._

_“What you need is a one night stand to help you move on.” Kylie grabbed her by the arm and practically threw her at an average looking guy standing alone by the bar._

**_But what if I don’t_ want _to move on?_**

 

* * *

 

 

Amy is in and out of consciousness all day. Each time she wakes up, there’s someone different by her side. First it’s Jake, then her parents, then Gina, then Rosa and Charles, then Terry and Captain Holt. Then she’s alone while her parents have dinner. Her mind goes to Jake. She thinks about his worried expression that morning and the dark bags under his eyes. She tries not to recall the blurry memories of him with his hands on her wound after she’d been shot. She shifts in the uncomfortable hospital bed and attempts to focus on the flowers the squad brought her. Maybe if she stares at them long enough, she’ll stop thinking about Jake.

“Mija?” Her mother’s voice comes from the doorway.

“Mama, Papi. How was dinner?”

“Delicious. We went to a restaurant your friend Charles recommended.” Her father smiles broadly.

“And it was actually good?” Amy laughs incredulously.

“How are you feeling?” Her mother asks.

“Mostly good. Sore. But I’ll be okay.”

“Of course you will. My little girl is a fighter.”

“Damn right I am, Papi.” She knows that it doesn’t come out as believably as she hopes.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, Mama.” Her father glances between his daughter and wife, and seems to come to some sort of realization.

“I’m thirsty. I’m going to go get a water bottle from that vending machine in the waiting room.” He slips out and Mrs. Santiago sits down in the chair next to her daughter’s bed.

“What’s bothering you, Amalia?”

“Jake.” Amy admits. “He was here, when I woke up, you know.”

“I suspected as much.” Amy’s mother nods. “He looked just awful when we came to the hospital last night.” She furrows her brow. “Is it a good thing or a bad thing that he was here when you woke up?”

“I think…maybe good?”

“You’re not sure?”

“I just…I think I made a mistake when I broke up with him. I just got so wrapped up in my own head, you know how I can get…but I might’ve missed my chance.” Amy chews her lip nervously.

“A man who waits all night in the hospital, is a man who loves you very much.”

“But, Mama.” Amy sighs and lays her head back to look at the ceiling. “I got shot helping him with something that we technically weren’t supposed to be doing. When I woke up he apologized to me. He’s guilty that I got hurt…that doesn’t mean he’ll take me back.”

“Well.” Amy’s mother stands. “There’s only one way to find out. Talk to him. But right now you should get some rest.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

Mrs. Santiago leans down and presses a kiss to Amy’s forehead. “Of course, Mija. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Amy doesn’t fall asleep again for another hour.

 

* * *

 

 

Jake turns out to be right. He, Rosa, and Boyle search Reynolds’s apartment and find a flash drive full of incriminating evidence against Giovanelli. Unfortunately for Jake, it takes them hours to find it—until Rosa notices a creak in one of the floorboards and pries it open to reveal the drive—and by the time they get back to the Nine-Nine, visiting hours are over at the hospital. Rosa and Charles, who visited Amy earlier in the day, before Jake came into the Nine-Nine, assure him that she’s okay.

He stays late that night, going over the paperwork. It takes him longer than usual because when he thinks about that apartment or what happened to Amy for too long, his head starts to spin and he loses his focus. When that happens, he gets coffee or a snack, or goes to the bathroom and splashes water on his face, or even just gets up and paces around the bullpen. He goes home around 4 AM and sleeps until he has to get up again and go to work.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s noon, or so Amy guesses, given that the nurse just brought her lunch. The curtains are open, letting the pale light stream in. She’s alone—her parents came while she was eating breakfast, and told her they were going back to Jersey for a few days—and she’s bored. She looks out the window and counts the cars in the parking lot below. She’s up to 57 cars when she hears a knock on her door and turns her head, expecting to see a nurse. Instead, it’s Jake who’s standing in her doorway, one hand behind his back. She raises an eyebrow curiously at him, but doesn’t ask what he’s doing there. She settles on “Hey” instead.

“Hi.” He seems jittery, and more so than usual. He’s tapping his free hand against his leg as walks all the way into the room. “I, uh, brought you something.”

He produces a teddy bear from behind his back. It reminds her of the one from a jewelry store robbery they worked just before Holt came to the Nine-Nine. It seems so long ago now. “I thought it might cheer you up a little? I don’t know.” He laughs nervously. “It’s cute, though, right?” He sets the bear next to the flowers from the squad and sits down in the chair near her bed.  

“Yeah,” she smiles. “It’s cute.”

“I’m so sorry, Amy.”

“It’s not your fault,” she insists. “But if it makes you feel better, apology accepted.”

He nods. “So,” he says abruptly. “How are you feeling? When Charles was shot he was really sore for awhile so—”

“I’m still in love with you,” she blurts out, her eyes immediately widening as she realized what she’d just said.

He doesn’t say anything, but the shock is evident in his half-open mouth and rapid blinks. “I…”

She’s not sure what to say now.

“What?” He asks softly. His voice is full of uncertainty and vulnerability, and she hates that she’s caused him so much pain.

“Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life.” She starts trying to string the words together to express exactly how she feels. “And I realized that when I woke up and you were there and I felt…relieved, almost.” She pauses, gathering her courage before continuing. “When I broke up with you, I was scared.” A hint of a smile creeps across her face. “I’m not scared anymore, Jake.”

“Amy, I…” He’s hesitant and she knows that she’s too late. The damage is done and he won’t take her back. She steels herself.

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“No, no…” He fumbles for his words, “Look, I just…I want to be sure that you’re sure about this and it’s not just some, like, ‘I just died’ thing. What if you wake up in a few months and realize that this isn’t what you wanted?”

“Jake.” Her face softens. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I never want to do that again.”

He nods, lips pursed tightly.

“But I promise you that I am sure about this. I’ve regretted breaking things off between us for months now, but I…I know I hurt you.”

“And you were scared I wouldn’t want you back.” His face softens.

“Exactly. But Jake, I almost died, and I…I don’t want to hold anything back anymore.” She looks up at him. The ball is in his court now.

“I Almost Died, title of your sex tape.” The joke barely makes sense and he knows it, it's just his way of breaking the tension. She rolls her eyes to cover her disappointment, but she knows he can see it in her face anyway. His awkward smile fades, and he takes her hand in his. “Just talk to me next time.”

Her breath catches. “Next time?”

“Next time you’re scared, or you have doubts. I want you to be able to talk to me. Promise me that you’ll talk to me.” He squeezes her hand gently, and she allows hope to bloom in her chest.

“I promise, Jake.” It’s not a hard promise to make. A wide, goofy smile spreads across his face, but he doesn’t say anything.

“So…” she starts after a few seconds of silence. “Are we…” She doesn’t finish the sentence because he’s already realized what she’s asking and is answering her. He kisses her softly, still holding her hand. Her free hand is on the back of his neck, her fingers running through his hair. He’s still smiling when they break apart breathlessly.

“Yes.”

 

 

 


End file.
